


The “Elementary” Years (1925-1927)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [233]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Castiel (Supernatural) Has a Guinea Pig, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Gay Sex, Johnlock - Freeform, London, M/M, Minor Character Death, Retirement, Sex in the Impala, Sussex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 15:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: John finds that things are hot behind the green door as well as the red one. Sherlock strikes out, there is a suicidal guinea-pig, and the two idjits take the Impala to visit family and to enjoy the open road.Yes, and the back seat!





	1. Red Versus Green

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aely/gifts).



1925

I felt, for neither the first nor the last time, that technology was progressing way too fast these days.

“Television?” I said querulousy. “Pictures on a screen? Whatever next?”

We were down in Eastbourne, as the cottage needed some major repairs undertaken. That summer had been very dry, and a crack had appeared in one of the side-walls, necessitating the sort of work that would have made living there damnably uncomfortable (I was apparently not allowed to suggest 'Let's Traumatize The Construction Worker' as a game, according to some mean blue-eyed genius). And the recent passing of both Bobby and Ellen Singer had meant that instead of heading to Brighton as we had originally planned, we had come here to help sort out their estate on behalf of Ash and Jo. Incredibly the voters of the St. Marylebone constituency which lay close to Baker Street had, for reasons that only they would ever know, elected Mrs. Lindberg to parliament, which she was duly terrori.... setting to rights.

“Remember our case in 'Marseilles'?” Sherlock teased as we walked back to “The Roadhouse”. Jo had wanted it sold on as a business, and Sherlock had used his connections to find someone who would do just that. I pou... scowled.

“You were mean to me back then”, I said. “I fully expected to be heading off to the south of France, and instead I got this!”

“I do not remember you complaining when we went into the beach-house with the green door”, he smiled.

I frowned at the memory.

“The beach-house had a red door”, I said. “Did it not?”

“Oh yes”, he said, taking out a key. “Silly me. The green door beach-house is for today!”

As I have so often said, he really was trying to kill me through sex. Oh well. Let him just try!

Please, let him just try!


	2. Strike!

1926

That winter was particularly bad, and I remember that large parts of London were flooded. Amongst the many affected was the widow of the late and un-lamented Bacchus Holmes, now Mrs. Muriel Smith, who had re-married to a London dock worker. Sherlock, watchful as ever, had been keeping an eye on matters, and made sure that the insurance company paid out on her claim rather more quickly than it might have done. 

A few months later, my son Ben who alerted us to a further problem in the capital which, rather tiresomely, necessitated a trip there for us both. I also knew that Sherlock had been in communication with Miss Charlotta Bradbury over some matter, so something was definitely up.

I really wished that he would stop with the knowing looks. I was not _that_ predictable!

Not all the time.

+~+~+

Mr. Anthony Hall stared in surprise as Sherlock swept into his office.

“Mr. Holmes!” he said, smiling what was very obviously a false smile. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

Sherlock said nothing, but sat himself down in a chair and focussed his azure gaze on the businessman. Who, I was not surprised, was already sweating.

“Mr. Hall”, Sherlock said at last, “I have a couple of questions for you.”

“Well, yes, of course.....”

“The first concerns your sacking of several men at one of my mines for their participation in the recent General Strike.”

“Yes”, the businessman said. “They had clearly abandoned their posts.”

The gaze resumed. The clock ticking in the corner seemed unnaturally loud, I thought.

“I instructed _all_ my managers not to take any such retribution against my employees”, Sherlock said firmly. “Without exception. And those instructions were delivered to you by registered post, so I know for a fact that you received them.”

The man across the table was silent. He clearly knew the game was up.

“My second question concerns a certain villa in Deauville, on the French coast”, Sherlock said, and I saw his prey twitch at that name. “It is registered to a Mrs. Grade. Your wife.”

“Well, she does own some property under her maiden name....”

“But it was paid for solely by funds from _your_ account”, Sherlock said coldly.

Again, the clock was very loud. Sherlock rose slowly to his feet.

“I have a replacement for you outside”, he said calmly. “You are no longer in my employment. The funds you have sequestered from my business to fund the lifestyle you apparently think you deserve will be returned to me within the week – oh, and you will be watched, so do not even think of trying to go abroad. Otherwise you will have the 'joys' of spending a considerable length of time at His Majesty's Pleasure. Good day!”

And with that he left. I scurried after him, suppressing a smile. Sherlock always liked to celebrate these 'victories', and there was a good hotel not far from here....


	3. All Creatures Great And Small

1927

As well as the bees, I had - yes, inevitably, shut up! - caved to Sherlock's request for a house-pet. I was not quite sure how he had got round me, but I knew that panties had been involved. Unusually he had opted for a guinea-pig, a small rat-sized thing he called Anaximander who, it seemed, was determined to commit guinea-pig hari-kari at every opportunity. The number of times I ended up chasing the little fellow around the house to get him back into his cage was far too high, although Sherlock always rewarded me afterwards.

No, I did not let him escape deliberately. I got more than enough sex from the sex-maniac I lived with as it was, thank you very much!

+~+~+

It was nearly autumn, and we had travelled up to Cranleigh in Surrey to see Johnnie and Toni for the day. They had had five children of their own by this time, and one reason for our visit was to conform that Toni was expecting number six.

“I see that you drove up this morning”, she said. “It is good that you have the car, what with us living in such a rural area.”

“Very useful”, Sherlock agreed. “It would have been up to three train rides to get here from our little hideaway, and a carriage ride at either end. Though it did mean that I was subjected to John’s driving, which has not improved one iota since he became mobile. If those rumours about them making people pass a test before they can drive are true, he may well be forced off the road!

Most irritatingly he had sidled out of swatting range as he spoke, so I had to settle for a pou.... a scowl. My nephew and his wife both chuckled.

“I drive very well”, I said loftily, “though I must say that the roads are definitely getting busier. I am the only one in the village garage who can fix some problems, now that Ben has gone to work in the new branch over in Hayward's Heath. And I can fix anything that is wrong with the Impala.”

“With the what?” my nephew asked, clearly confused.

“Our car is, apparently, not only female but named after a species of African antelope”, Sherlock said glumly, sounding like he was the most put-upon mate in the history of ever. “I wanted to eat a packet of crisps as we were driving here, and your uncle insisted that we pull over so that I would not soil 'her’.”

I thought of what we still managed to do from time to time on the back seats, and grinned. Until Johnnie, who had clearly inherited his uncle's mind-reading abilities somehow or other, coughed pointedly.

“Uncle John?” he said sharply. “Really!”

“Says the man with five children, and number six on the way”, I replied acidly. “Clearly _you_ know how the game is played.”

“Pie!” Toni almost shouted, looking mortified. “I made it especially. And for Heaven's sake, let us please change the subject!”

I exchanged a smirk with Johnnie, and just thought longingly of the Impala’s back seat.

+~+~+

On the way back home, I did not have to just think....

+~+~+

Well, what are family for except to traumatize with your antics? Over into a new and darker decade as our (mis-)adventures continue.


End file.
